“Gratitude is the memory of the heart.” Jean Baptiste Massieu
Every Friday is significant for us. If nothing else, its a way of keeping track of time. Today marks week 39…just 3 days short of 9 months.
I finally stopped by the Fire Station with the kids. This is something I’ve been meaning to do for months. I had hoped to talk to the team of first responders that got Vernon bagged for breath and then to the hospital, but we met another firefighter who wasn’t there that night. Perhaps I waited to long. But anyway, he said he’d pass on the news that Vernon was still going…recovering. I asked him how often they heard whether people they’d saved survived. He said that sometimes the hospital would call, but often they wouldn’t hear unless a family member or victim came back to the station.
Justine was so sweet, telling the fireman:: “Thank you for saving my dad.”
He wasn’t there that night, but he might as well have been. He was there for someone else’s dad. He might save someone else’s loved one tonight. He still deserves the thanks.
Maki, more mature and laid back, told me as we were leaving: “Ok, you can cross that one off your list now.”
He’s gotten to know me so well. I have a lot more gratitude on my list. It keeps growing, and I can’t seem to catch up. I haven’t even started to thank people for all the financial gifts that have come our way this past year. And the messages. And the help. And the thoughtfulness. And the prayer. It’s all on my list, I promise.
It doesn’t really count to say it here, probably, but thank YOU for helping us get this far. As those firefighters and medical professionals all have saved Vernon, YOU have kept our family going. My heart explodes at the thought of it.
We truly are grateful. One day I hope to express it better.
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